75
by thelittlescribbler
Summary: 75 years. That's the time it took for the rebellion to come again, the repeat of the Dark Days. A collection of 75 small moments throughout the Hunger Games. Drabbles. / Canon.
1. Gale

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

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Chapter 1: Gale

"Primrose Everdeen."

The words boom out of the microphone. Silence spreads among the vast District 12 crowd as my heart ceases beating. Mutters of sympathy scatter around, at the unfairness and injustice of a twelve year old; a child being reaped out among thousands and thousands of slips. But those two words hit my heart like a thunderstorm. Panic erupts inside me as the people begin to slowly part, leaving a solitary pathway for Prim to the stage for the world to see. I swear, if I could volunteer for her, I would. But I can't. I can't because of the stupid fucking Capitol. Then suddenly a desperate scream rings across the square.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" screams Katniss hopelessly, panicking through the crowds.. Oh my god, my Catnip. I see her run after Prim, telling her to get back. She forcefully tears the pale skinny arms off her waist as the Peacekeepers begin to roughly shove Prim away.

"No, Katniss! No! You can't go!"

"Prim, let go." she reprimands her, desperately giving Prim a heartbroken plead.

I rush to her side, gently prising Prim away from her as she wails hysterically, kicking her feet in the air.

"Up you go, Catnip", I say, trying to keep my emotions steady for everyone's sake. This is what the Capitol does. Heartbreak.


	2. Madge

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

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Chapter 2: Madge

I storm into the Justice Building, fuming at the prospect of Katniss having to be in the Games. As I approach the heavy mahogany doors of the visiting room, I try to calm myself down and make myself look as presentable as possible. I quietly open the door and slip into the room, and I detect a slight expression of surprise on her face. Before she can open her mouth, I interject.

"They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena. One thing to remind you of home. Will you wear this?"

I slip my mockingjay pin into her small hands.

"Your pin?"

"Here, I'll put it on your dress all right?" I don't wait for an answer and immediately attach the pin onto her pale blue dress.

"Promise me you'll wear it into the arena, Katniss? Promise?"

"Yes", she quietly replies. We sit there in a comfortable silence as angry thoughts directed at the Capitol rage through my mind. Finally, I can't take it any longer and I leave the room, before she can see the tears threatening to fall. I walk straight into the strong arms of Gale, and bury my face into his chest.


	3. Mrs Mellark

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

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Chapter 3: Mrs Mellark

I stiffly enter the room, the room where I'll say my last goodbyes to Peeta. And then he will be lost forever. I know it, he knows it, everyone here knows it. I know he won't go down without a fight, but this time he's not fighting for himself. He's fighting for that girl, I can see it with my eyes.  
"Mum?" a voice calls weakly.

I sit down next to him, staring at the rich tapestries hanging on the walls. My voice catches in my throat, knowing that I'll never see him again after this. Ever. I never knew saying goodbye could be this hard.

"Maybe we'll finally have a victor this year", I finally say. I see the look that Peeta's giving me, and before he can protest I add, "She's a survivor, that one."

I regret those words the instant they come out of my mouth. As the meaning registers, his face crumples beside me, but I have no words. No words to what the Capitol has done to us.


	4. Portia

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

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Chapter 4: Portia

And finally, District 12 rides out amongst the coming twilight of the night. The response from the audience is enormous. Flames erupt in the air, bringing life to the darkness of the City Circle. Sparks fly, illuminations lighting up the Capitol. Kisses are blown, and the people are going wild, tossing roses and screaming their names out as if they were the only things that could save their lives. I glance over to look at Cinna, who's signalling for them to hold hands. And they do. They unite, bringing their clasped hands up for everyone to see.

And then his eye catches mine from the grandeur balcony. His snake-like eyes lock into mine, intensifying. I know I should fear. Fear the unknown wrath of the President, but I don't. Instead, I smile. I smile because he knows what we want. Rebellion.


	5. Lavinia

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

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Chapter 5: Lavinia

Running. I was sprinting through the woods, leaving footprints in the damp soil, branches hitting me square on the face every few seconds. I look up, and see that the fucking hovercraft is gaining on me quickly, blasting with deafening noise. Suddenly, I hear a loud crashing noise behind me. I whip around to check that he's okay. Please, please, please. But he's not. Tears well in my eyes as I spot his face; full of agony as he lies on the floor still.

"No! Tom, no! Don't leave me!" I cried desperately, voice trailing.

And that's the last thing I ever remember saying.

"That's the last thing I wa- Oh! I know you!"

I wince, hoping that none of the mentors or escorts heard that. That girl. I do know her. She was my last hope of life. My final life-line. She could've saved me, but somehow, I just can't hold it against her. There's just this something about her, I knew from the moment I saw her grey eyes poking out from the sorry excuse for a bush.

I didn't sacrifice my life for nothing. This girl better win the Games.


	6. Rue

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

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Chapter 6: Rue

"Give me my knife back!" Cato roars, his booming voice travelling all the way to the back of the training area. Shudders of fear ripple inside of me, wrenching my core.

"Please, please. I don't have it! Please don't hurt me!" the boy from District 6 whimpers, hands shaking, and his face as white as the sparkling cleaned dinner table, terrified at the prospect of having a conversation with the monstrous boy from District 2. Maybe he really could snap his neck in an instant. So close to death, really.

"I'm going to count to five. If it's not in my hand by five..." he trails off, threateningly glaring, as the boy cowers in a corner.

The boy just snivels, tears starting to fall from his brown eyes. I glance down my hand, white knuckles gripping onto the handle. Regret floods through me. Inside, my guts are knotted, squirming all over the place. I really do feel bad. I never meant for any harm, it was just a bit of fun, after all.

"1... 2... 3... I'm warning you. 4..."

Oh crap, what do I do?


	7. Marvel

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

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Chapter 7: Marvel

"Holy fuckcakes! Please tell me that I'm blind. Please. She did not just get a freaking 11."

"Nope, not blind", Clove groans, and then smirks and adds, "You're just mad that fire bitch bet you."

"Fuck off Clove, not the time", Cato screams hysterically, almost like a six year old kid throwing a tantrum in a supermarket aisle because their mum didn't buy them lollies. Okay, but still. I have no freaking idea how fire bitch got an 11, out of all people.

"If any of us win, I swear we're gonna get fucking shamed when we get back home!" I wail, imitating Cato. We all laugh, and then eventually fall silent.

We know we're not going home. Not this year. We know too much. Too much about the corruption of the Capitol and the rotten core of our nation. There's no hope of returning home without the body bag enclosing us. But one can only wish that one day this will all end. And this time, forever.


	8. Glimmer

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

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Chapter 8: Glimmer

A glittering sheer material is dropped down onto me, softly touching my skin, accentuating my curves. My shining hair is piled into loose golden curls, framing my angular face and a light touch of make-up is applied to my already flawless face. I stare at myself in the mirror, my jaw dropping at what I've become. A fucking Capitol sex symbol, like I've already won the Games. This is want they want me to be. They want me to follow Cashmere and that fucking Finnick Odair's footsteps. Winning the Games is no guarantee for a chance of life. It's just a promise that the rest of your lives will be a miserable slump. This is what they want. This is what they do. The Capitol.


End file.
